


All of me & All of you

by Eighth



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe, Angst, Best Friends, Break Up, Car Accidents, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, Feelings, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Long-Distance Friendship, Long-Distance Relationship, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Slow Build, Unrequited Love, VictUuri, brief but meaningful phichitxyuri, is life tho, nice motive still murder, phichuuri, yuri!! on Ice, yuuchit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-19 14:12:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9444962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eighth/pseuds/Eighth
Summary: Yuri gasps for breath as the music ends. His arms are wrapped around himself and he's looking up at the dark, vaulted ceiling of the rink. He turns to the side to find Yuuko's eyes but instead he sees a phone camera pointed at him. Yuuko screams from in front of him and he skates towards her as she jumps in place.He lets her excitedly prattle on for a bit before interrupting and asking if there was anyone else in the rink. She shakes her head, but then three children bounce up from below her and balance themselves on the barrier."Oh, Axel, Lutz and Loop!" She introduces Yuri to her triplet daughters, whom Yuri had only seen through social media and skype calls until now. He explains to Yuuko what he saw and she proceeds to interrogate her children until they confess to having recorded Yuri's skating. Yuuko forces them to hand over their phones, sends Yuri a copy to his email and then deletes the video from the girl's phones."But mom!! The skate otakus would have loved that video!" One of the girls chimes up and Yuri sighs with relief at having stopped them in time. It seems like they had planned to post it online, and that wouldn't have done anyone any good.





	

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katsuki, Yuri. Retired Figure Skater, Bachelors of Athletic Training and BOC certified. 23 years old. 
> 
> Strong name, weak mind.
> 
> Broke up with and then fucked his best friend three times in the past 24 hours.

Consciousness is there, clawing at the edges of his mind, trying to command his attention and stir him awake but he is trying his best not to budge. Letting his eyes open, continuing his daily routine, accepting the fact that he has to wake up also means accepting that he has to keep going and face the past month. Lying still, wound tightly around reassuring warmth, he can feel every muscle in his body is tense and aching from over exertion. He can also feel small puffs of breath against his collarbone and his lips are resting on soft... fur?

He shifts, testing how far he can move his body without disturbing the... person next to him. Yes, there's someone wrapped around him, just as he is wrapped around them. Their legs are twined together, he's not sure how he'll get them separated through this sleepy haze but he'll worry about that later. He refuses to open his eyes, but takes mental inventory of his body and tries to push aside all thoughts invading his head.

He's in his room, familiar bedsheets and pillow beneath him, thick comforter strewn on top. Left arm pinned to the bed under a warm, lean, skinny body that's pressed tightly against his. They are both nude. He can feel his hand resting against their- _His_ lower back, surprisingly muscled for such a small body. His right arm is wrapped around the man's shoulder, bringing him closer in their sleep. He runs his fingers up relaxed shoulders, finds a long neck and traces the spine until he reaches soft hair. He winds his fingers through it, feels the length increasing as he reaches up and buries his nose into the man’s head, taking a deep breath. Chamomile fills his nostrils and his companion stirs beneath him. 

"Yuri..." Phichit sighs, pushing his face into Yuri's chest and winding his left arm around his waist. 

_Thump._

It felt as though something had been carved out of him for a second, then put back in, but Yuri recognizes that as his heart skipping over itself. The pain lurches his stomach and he feels physically ill. Sluggishly, he starts to recall the events of the past month and he has to force himself into practiced breaths. He tries to not alarm Phichit, he tries to not go in to another panic attack, he doesn't want to do this again, not to Phichit. He doesn't deserve this.

 _In_.

Yuri really hates himself for this. He's supposed to be the older of the two, why can't he be as well put together as Phichit? Why does he always have to rely on the other boy to take care of him? Why did he leave Vicchan to die alone why did he let his nerves get to him, why couldn’t he - why _why_ -

"Yuri, Out."

His eyes shoot wide open as he coughs, releasing air from his lungs that he hadn't realized was still there. Phichit is now rubbing circles along Yuri's back, humming a song he can't recognize, and something seems to be shaking the room. Yuri's eyes scan the small area around him, trying hard to recall if there's ever been an earthquake in Detroit, he tries to wrap his arms around Phichit protectively as his chest heaves with the sudden strain that breathing has become. His bones feel like jelly and muscles are stone, and he objectively realizes that _he's_ the one who's shaking.

Phichit scoots up on the bed and now that he's eye level with Yuri, he can see his normally charcoal eyes are red-tinged and puffy. His face is twisted with worry, but Phichit's hands come up Yuri's back, trace warm paths around his shoulders and come up to frame his face. He starts thumbing at Yuri's cheeks and he feels condensation coming from his thumbs. No, not the thumbs, Yuri must be crying again.

"It's okay..." A reassuring murmur. 

Yuri shakes his head. It's not. He shouldn't be trembling like a baby in the arms of his best friend. Lover, rather. Yuri, still shaking, musters as much strength as he can and pulls Phichit back to him, pressing his head into the tan skin of his neck. An awful sob wracks his body and the shaking won't stop, but Phichit is all whispered reassurances and hummed songs until the last of it pushes it way out of Yuri's body.

The past month had truly been the worst of Yuri's skating life. The best way to summarize it might be to say that it was the fitting finale for a disappointing career. Yuri had never excelled, never turned heads, he had never wowed audiences or bated breaths. He had never inspired, never shaped someone's life like Victor Nikiforov had painted his years ago, that’s all that Yuri wanted when he skated, he wanted to one day be like Victor.

The man who once looked down at him from countless posters and portraits framed around his room, looked down at the pathetic heap of a dime-a-dozen skater from a small town in Japan who tried to make a name for himself in America. The man who couldn't bring himself to ask for an autograph after his life-long idol had offered it. _The same idol who hadn't recognized him as a competitor_ , Yuri reminds himself.

A shudder escapes Yuri, his breathing evens out across Phichit's skin. The weeks following the Grand Prix Final had been absolute torture, but he tried to pull himself up from that at Japanese Nationals. He struggled for a victory, a comeback. He was not successful. He and Celestino made their way back to Detroit afterwards, Yuri's coach tried his best to cheer him up but Yuri found himself incapable of anything beyond nodding and biding the time until he made it back to his room to break down and cry.

And cry he did. Cried and cried until he noticed that Phichit had been there crying with him for god knows how long. Yuri wasn't sure when he had shown up but he just wrapped his arms around Phichit and sobbed harder into his friend's lap. Phichit cried for Yuri and folded himself over his body, pressing kisses on his head and smoothing his hair and shirt, his fingers tracing themselves over his eyebrows, trying to work the anger and aguish out of them. Soothing hiccups, kisses and a heartfelt confession from Phichit were what brought him out of that first bout of darkness. 

But no matter what Yuri did, no matter how hard Phichit tried, he always ended up crawling back and succumbing to his thoughts, his inner demons and his ugliness. And only one of them paid the price. The one who didn't deserve to.

Phichit and Yuri had settled into a comfortable routine over the next several months. Yuri quit skating, finished his degree as quickly as he could and then started working towards a certification for Athletic Training. He started working at the rink where Phichit still practiced under Celestino, assisting Celestino and employed by the University. He would tend to injuries, run errands for the club, drive and chaperone skaters to and from competitions, and this was enough to comfortably get him by while he still roomed with Phichit. 

The days were bearable, but at night when he and Phichit made their way home, Yuri broke. He had become far too accustomed to putting on a mask, a facade to make people think he was okay and that he was over what had happened. People called him strong and brave, told him he would once again come back, that he wasn't done with skating just yet, he was just taking a break. People who thought they knew him better than he knew himself made comment after comment and instead of letting it show on his face, he let every comment sink low and deep below the surface, seethe and writhe into his veins and blood and essence, where it would fester into bile and burn until he got home. His exterior only hardened and hardened at this treatment while he remained frail and broken on the inside. He would come home every night a broken man, and Phichit would be there to pick up the pieces. He would assemble Yuri with his love, put him back together piece by piece, tenderly and carefully until he was ready to face another day.

Mingled between messy, exciting firsts were Yuri's breakdowns. Between every slow kiss, every feather-light touch and shy gasp was another fight. Yuri gave Phichit everything he had to give, and Phichit took everything without a word. The good and the bad, even when the bad should have been too much for one person to bear, Phichit never complained, never regretted any moment. He simply loved Yuri, and Yuri accepted it.

One morning, Yuri realized he didn't love Phichit. Not in the way that Phichit needed. 

That realization had sunk in to Yuri's chest like an anchor, weighed him down week after week as he looked at what he had done to his friend. He took a step back and really looked for the first time at what he and Phichit were doing, and realized this couldn't be considered healthy. Not by a long shot. Phichit deserved someone who could also be there for him, it had to be equal, not just Yuri leeching the life from him with every kiss and every touch, not just Yuri seeking comfort, unable to find the energy to return it.

And it hurt. Once he sat Phichit down, told him that he did not love him in the same way that he was loved, the anchor tore itself from Yuri's chest and he was left empty, raw. He felt sharp pain as he held Phichit's sobbing body and wondered if this was the first time he had seen Phichit cry for _himself_ and not for Yuri's sake. 

Yuri felt fear at that moment, fear that maybe he could never love. Maybe he was too broken, too selfish, too uncaring and self-centered to ever be able to love. If he was able to hold Phichit in his arms, hold him close, make love to him but feel no love, was he even capable of loving somebody? Phichit was the embodiment of sunshine, his soul shone with beauty and radiance and love for all things and this being had specifically chosen Yuri to bestow that upon. Even beyond that, he was physically beautiful. A skater's body had to be toned, and Phichit's was no exception - lean musculature under dark skin and dark charcoal eyes, almost like cooling lava that burned Yuri when he stared too long.

But Yuri had to let him go, and Phichit understood. They were not healthy for each other and this could only get worse. 

A hand brushes his hair back and Yuri snaps out of his thoughts when lips meet his forehead. Phichit is still lying there, in front of him, wrapped protectively around Yuri. This is their last morning together, at least for the time being. Yuri's bags are packed up and ready to go with him to the airport, back to Hasetsu where his family awaits. This had been the decision he came to when he broke up with Phichit - to give both of them some space and to see if going back home would finally give him some form of closure and help him move past all of this. 

Yuri looks up at Phichit, their eyes meet and he pulls Phichit down to his level. He searches Phichit's eyes, trying to figure out what's going on in his best friend's mind. His eyes are still swollen from crying last night when they had both gotten emotional over Yuri's departure the following morning, and peppered along his shoulders are small bruises that Yuri provided. He runs a finger along the bite marks, simultaneously rubbing a circle along the small of Phichit's back, which causes him to curve in to Yuri while catching his bottom lip in-between his teeth. 

"Yu... Yuri," Phichit shivered, “When is your flight?" 

Yuri hums in response, leans closer to Phichit and licks in to his neck. He mouths at the spot where his neck and collar bone meet, his breath cooling against his spit on Phichit's skin as he speaks. "We have a few hours." Yuri feels shivers running through the other man's body and nails digging into his shoulder. He sucks harder against Phichit's neck, digs his teeth into the now tender skin and a moan vibrates against his teeth. 

"Tell me to stop."

Yuri looks up, Phichit meets his gaze. Dark ebony eyes are now unfocused, fogged over with lust and there's a light dusting of red adorning dark cheeks. Phichit licks his lips between stifled gasps and short breaths, moving his legs restlessly beneath Yuri's. Yuri adjusts them, brings one of his legs between Phichit's squirming ones, brings it against his body and Phichit finds the purchase he was looking for. He begins to thrust against the muscled curve between Yuri's thigh and abdomen, his hardening penis slowly waking up and seeking friction. 

"Please, Yuri." Phichit draws out the last syllable, whining into Yuri's lips and Yuri feels that empty feeling again. When your stomach drops, your heart follows soon after, and Yuri feels so awful over not being able to love this mess of a man next to him. Why, what was _wrong_ with him. Yuri closes his eyes tight and kisses into Phichit's mouth, licking into its warmth and sucking back on Phichit's tongue. He reaches around and starts grabbing under the pillow for the lube they used last night. Once he captures the bottle, he squirts a little on to his left hand, brings his right hand down to Phichit's ass. 

Yuri leans back from the kiss, looks at Phichit's face, warms the lube between two fingers in one hand while slowly circling Phichit's entrance with the other. Phichit's eyes are rimmed with tears, his thrusts have turned jerky and uneven in Yuri's arms, and sweat shines on flushed copper skin. His hair is crumpled from sex, sleeping, and more sex, and his breath smells a little but he is still shockingly beautiful. The problem is definitely Yuri's, Phichit is flawless, and Yuri can't allow him to think otherwise.

"You're so beautiful." Yuri's voice comes out raw and jagged, gruff from crying and emotion and under use. Phichit lets out a sob, or is that a moan? Yuri repositions Phichit, twisting them to their right until Phichit is straddling Yuri and the covers fall halfway off them. Phichit has his hands on Yuri's chest, his elbows on his abdomen, and he's now resting his weight on Yuri's hips. In this new position, Phichit begins grinding down on Yuri's erection and the latter lets out a low groan, fingers digging into phichit's thighs. He moves his left hand to the cleft of Phichit's ass, circles his asshole with three thoroughly lubed fingers. 

Phichit's gasps turn needy, Yuri joins in and they begin a chorus of want as Phichit fucks himself into one finger, then two. Slowly, Yuri paces Phichit through opening himself up to take Yuri's cock, making sure that no harm would come to Phichit. When he feels that Phichit is ready, he inserts a third finger and begins to make slow motions inside of him, trying to prepare him fully. Phichit begins violently shaking, gasping, begging, unable to form sentences as Yuri reaches deep inside of him and tugs at his penis in coordinated strokes. Yuri could keep going for ages, he loved making Phichit lose himself, this was truly the only thing he could give Phichit and he made sure he gave him the best he could. 

Sweat pools on Yuri's forehead, abdomen, everywhere his body touches Phichit's as the latter kneels above him and rides his fingers. He felt so close himself, just watching the joy and pure bliss in his lover's face was nearly enough to make him cum. Yuri slows his strokes, lest go of Phichit's penis and takes his fingers out of his lover’s ass. He sits up, rises from the bed and hugs Phichit to his chest, letting him shake and shiver against him while he flips them back around. Yuri places Phichit down on the bed and hovers above him, observing as his truest and closest friend in the whole world tries to gasp for breath, little whimpers and moans escaping his lips.

"Phichit?" Yuri paused for approval.

"Y... uriii- Pl-Please. In me. Now." Phichit chokes out, almost growls out and Yuri lowers his head and reclaims Phichit's lips. Their kiss starts slow, Yuri taking that opportunity to grab a condom from under the pillow and rolling it on to his penis, just small licks at each other's lips and small nips of teeth here and there. Yuri places his hands on Phichit's hips, Phichit's hands find their spot atop Yuri's shoulders, fingers digging deep as their kiss heats up. Yuri kneels beneath Phichit and hungrily drags him closer to his body, swiftly pulling him up Yuri’s thighs and angling his cock near his asshole. A few slow thrusts find Yuri's head beginning to make its way into Phichit.

Phichit gasps for air, and Yuri pulls back from their kiss, instead deciding to keep a watchful eye on his partner's features and layering kiss after kiss all over his face. On his eyes, his eyebrows, his nose, cheeks, ears, muttering sweet assurances and letting Phichit know just how fucking beautiful he really is. 

Slowly, Yuri pushes himself into Phichit's warmth and once he is fully inside he waits. He feels the warmth wrap around him and his stomach burns and lurches with lust, Phichit tightens and loosens around him in deliciously small bursts and it’s almost too much to sit still but he waits. Both of them are struggling for air, unable to fill their lungs, gasping and moaning while hyper sensitive and over used bodies try to adjust to each other again. Phichit's fingers relax their grip on Yuri's shoulders and his eyes flutter open, they roll forward and search for Yuri's, almost unable to focus. 

A smile and a nod. Yuri grins, leans down and presses his lips against Phichit's forehead. He cups his hand against Phichit's neck and uses the other to anchor Phichit's waist against his thighs. He keeps his weight mostly on his knees and he begins slowly thrusting into Phichit, rhythmically moving in and out at varying speeds and depths. He loves playing this game with Phichit, to keep him guessing and gasping, moaning for more made Yuri feel fantastic. 

“Oh – god - _Yes_ ,” Hearing the high-pitched breaths coming from the man below him made every sensation go straight to his groin, Yuri had to struggle to concentrate and force the stars at the edge of his vision to blur out of focus. He pumps faster, opens his eyes to witness Phichit squirming against the bed, his mouth open in ecstasy, moving erratically even if no words are being formed. 

The noise from Phichit's throat came out strangled and short now, caught somewhere between moaning and needing to breathe. Yuri couldn't believe how expressive Phichit was, how he was able to show his love for Yuri through their bodies, how he and Phichit had built each other up into what they were today. How, if it hadn't been for Phichit's reassurances, Yuri was certain he wouldn't be able to make love to anyone like this. Phichit had taught him so much, and Yuri just threw all of his efforts away with each new meltdown and panic attack.

Phichit pulls him down into another hasty kiss, whispers incoherent words when their lips part for air. Yuri increases the speed and Phichit arches his back off the mattress, trying to gain purchase from his shoulders to push back against Yuri's erection. He wraps his legs around Yuri's waist and digs his heels into Yuri's back, scrapes his nails down every inch of Yuri's chest, sides, body. A guttural growl comes from Yuri's throat and he presses Phichit further into the bed with every thrust, the hot lines being left on his body making him impossibly more aroused. He feels his control slipping, pulls back from kissing Phichit. "I'm... Almost-"

"Faster Y-Yuri... More Yu-" Phichit is trembling, his reddened and slightly swollen lips ghosting over Yuri's as he speaks, and he can't keep his eyes from rolling backwards. Yuri moves his hand up from Phichit's neck to cup his cheek and stroke above his closed eye. His long eyelashes flutter under the touch and Phichit leans in to Yuri's hand, pressing small kisses between desperate whines and moans. Yuri grips Phichit's hips tighter, pushes harder, faster. He didn't have practice this weekend, so they could do as much as they wanted before Yuri had to leave. Might as well leave him with a memory. Yuri leaned forward and licked into Phichit's collarbone, painting a small circle before he started suckling. He sunk his teeth in, sharply sucked and fucked at full force and he felt Phichit stiffen beneath him. 

The rippling sensation of Phichit's orgasm had Yuri finishing, clumsily pumping into the gasping skater a few times as he finished releasing into the condom before Yuri laid down beside him. They both gasped for breath before Yuri stood up, got some tissues from next to his bed and cleaned up the mess Phichit made on himself. 

Yuri came back towards the bed and laid down next to Phichit, curling around the younger skater with practiced familiarity. It would be very remiss of him to deny that he's going to miss this. He's going to miss Detroit, his room, studying, his best friend, his lover, Phichit, skating, Celestino, everything. He screwed his eyes shut. 

The sheets are crumpled under their bodies, comforter around them again, he can feel Phichit's back moving against his chest as his breathing evens out. The warm rays of the dawning sun on his back serving as a reminder that this too, like the morning and the night before, must end. 

His hand runs through Phichit's hair, his lips plant a kiss at the nape of the Thai man's neck. "Phichit," Yuri starts, clears his throat when his voice comes out rough and low. "We should probably get going, dove." This earns him a displeased grunt from Phichit, who's now reaching for his phone on the bedside table. Once he has it in his grasp, he comes back against Yuri's body and twists until Yuri huffs and wraps his arms around him again. Twisted smile on his face, Yuri looks down at Phichit browsing through his Instagram feed before clicking on the camera app and suddenly he can see both of their bruised and flushed bodies mirrored on the small screen.

"Uh- No."

"But Yuriiii! It'll make a great memory~" Phichit turns to face him and sticks out his bottom lip, letting it quiver slightly while his eyebrows knit together. He batts his eyelashes at Yuri and... Yuri's resolve breaks. He could never say no to Phichit, and they both know it, the pouting was more of a formality for the sake of Yuri's conscience. Phichit begins to take a series of pictures while Yuri pretends to not give a damn. 

After what feels like three hours, at least 300 pictures, and an endless stream of comments and chirps from Phichit, Yuri takes matters into his own hands for the sake of not missing his airplane. He lifts Phichit from where he's lying on Yuri's chest, apparently posing with what Yuri really hoped wasn't a matching set of four red lines that most likely came from Phichit's manicured nails, takes his phone into one hand and brings his partner up to lie with him on the pillows. He hooks his arms around Phichit's shoulders, brings his hand up and laces his fingers into his hair and kisses Phichit's forehead. Phichit giggles at the contact and reflexively goes to wind his arm around Yuri's shoulders. Yuri snaps the picture and hands Phichit the phone before he can make his usual comments, standing up off the bed and heading towards the showers. 

Yuri steps into the bath tub and turns on the water, not even bothering to let it heat up while he waited outside. The cold stream of water hits his face and he lets out a low hiss. He _really_ should not have done any of that. Wow. Shit.

Katsuki, Yuri. Retired Figure Skater, Bachelors of Athletic Training and BOC certified. Age 23. Strong name, weak mind. Broke up with and then fucked his best friend three times in the past 24 hours. 

The man who was his best and closest friend in the whole world, and the man who he loved the most. But he just wasn't _in_ love with. 

He can’t believe that just happened.

Yuri chews on the inside of his cheek, squints up into the warming spray of water. That was the catalyst for him returning for Hasetsu for the time being, and the break up. Not only did he really need to figure himself out, get out of the depression and the rut he found himself in after the Grand Prix Final all those months ago, but he had to give Phichit time. He knew that Phichit had loved him deeply and truly for longer than he could imagine, in ways that Yuri could not reciprocate, and he did not want to hurt him further than he already had.

They had talked about everything before starting the relationship: Yuri had admitted that he had never loved, that he had been hurt before and was scared. Phichit had listened and said that it was okay, took all of his fears and threw them away with wild abandon. 

Yuri grabs the shampoo bottle, squirts a handful on to his palm and starts rubbing his hands together. His lips draw into a thin line. He really should have known better. He should not have used Phichit's love and comfort like that, should have realized that no matter what his friend said, no matter how good natured the offer was and how great those months were, that it just wasn't right of Yuri to lead Phichit on like that. Even if Phichit had done everything knowingly, which he did, Yuri should have been aware enough to know what he was doing to his best friend. 

The guilt really tore away at Yuri, he just hoped that Phichit would forgive him.

Yuri works the shampoo into a lather in his hair, rinses it off and soaps off his body in short order before turning off the water. For a few moments, he hears a few hiccupped sobs from the other room, but they are hushed soon after the sounds of the water and steam die down. Yuri stares at his feet, water dripping down from the ends of his hair. His chest and stomach feel empty, his head is dazed. 

He's a real _fine piece of work._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading chapter 2! 
> 
> The original chapter 2 got taken down after I was halfway through chapter 2, spent a few nights planning the whole fic from scratch, and then trashed both chapters 2 and 3 in favor of starting over. 
> 
> What we have now starts a bit further back than the original Chapter 2 and I plan on going into further details on some things that were skimmed over before.
> 
> Let's have fun!  
> (Please excuse any mistakes, this is the first fic I've written in years. Please let me know if tags and such aren't correct either.)


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